


On Your Lips I Taste The Sea (And The Sea Has Always Been Home to Me)

by sleepstagram



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, the world needed more odesta fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepstagram/pseuds/sleepstagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie had grown up hearing the whispers. Soulmates, they said. No one would talk to her about it when she asked, but over time she heard the legends. Behind closed doors, her parents shared stories in hushed voices, stories about names appearing on people’s skin. </p><p>Or, in which the first time Annie sees her soulmate, he's being reaped for the 65th Hunger Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the poem 'salt' by tyler knott gregson. thank u so much to eunice for reading/editing/motivating me to finish this. enjoy!!!

 

 

_“Then you reached out and curled your fingers around mine, so tight. I knew you recognized me. That was the first time I knew I had a heart inside my body.” –Francesca Lia Block_

 

Annie had grown up hearing the whispers. _Soulmates,_ they said. No one would talk to her about it when she asked, but over time she heard the legends. Behind closed doors, her parents shared stories in hushed voices, stories about names appearing on people’s skin.

“Is it magic?” she heard her mother whisper to her father. Annie pressed her ear harder to the door, waiting intently for her father’s reply. The response never came, but Annie didn’t need one. Of course it was magic – what else could it be?

\--

Annie’s father died in a fishing accident two weeks after Annie’s tenth birthday. It was Annie’s job to take care of herself while her mom talked to friend after friend and cried on the kitchen floor.

Daniel Cresta had been dead for a week before Annie found the courage to ask her mother.

“Was he your…” Annie hesitated, lowering her voice, “Your _soulmate_?”

Annie’s mother looked at her daughter with watery eyes. “No,” she told Annie, a small smile on her lips. “But he was my husband, and I loved him all the same.”

Years later, once the pain of losing a member of their tight-knit family had lessened to a dull throb, Annie’s mother would tell her daughter that it wasn’t common to find your soulmate. That of all the people the Crestas had ever known, she’d only seen it with her own eyes once.

\--

Annie Cresta was thirteen years old when the words appear. She was in the bath, washing sand out from underneath her nails. At first, she thought it was just another smudge of dirt. Annie scrubbed at her wrist, but the mark didn’t budge. Peering at it more closely, Annie realized with a gasp that the strange mark was actually a collection of letters. She twisted her arm at an awkward angle so she could read the words.

_Finnick Odair._

Annie scrambled out of the water, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it as about to jump out of her chest. Hazardously wrapping a towel around herself, she sprinted out of the bathroom, hollering for her mother.

“Annie what is wrong?” Her mother worried, looking her daughter over for any injuries.

Annie was breathless. She spluttered incoherently before simply saying, “Look!” and shoving her wrist at her mom so she could see the newfound writing there.

Moira Cresta’s hands flew up to cover her mouth.

Annie gulped. “Is it- is it the?”

Her mother nodded. “Annie, you’ve been kissed by the sea.”

\--  
The next day, Annie asked every customer who came to the market stall where she sold her handmade jewelry if anyone knew a Finnick Odair. Nobody could tell her anything – or at least, they didn’t want to. With the reaping coming up in a few weeks, people were overly tense and therefore suspicious of prying questions.

Still, Annie and her mother kept poking around for any information.

“Maybe he doesn’t live in District 4,” Annie mumbled dejectedly to her mother after two weeks of looking with nothing to show for it. Would she have to move to a different district so they could be together? Annie tried to picture herself living in a cabin in the woods of District 7, and shuddered at the thought of being hundreds of miles away from the sea. She couldn’t bear to leave District 4 – not on a permanent basis anyway. Whoever this Finnick was, he would have to be okay with moving.

Moira laughed. “With a name like Finnick Odair? Where else could he possibly be?” She smoothed her daughter’s hair away from her worried brow. “Don’t worry my love. District 4 is very big. We’ll find him – I promise. Plus,” she added, “I bet wherever he is, he’s looking for you too.”

Annie spent all of the free time she had in the next weeks imagining everything about Finnick Odair and their life together. They would have to have a house by the sea, she decided. A house where you could see the waves from the front porch. But not too far from her family so her mom could come visit all the time. Annie knew that no matter what she imagined, her soulmate Finnick would surpass them just simply by being him.

\--

Annie Cresta met Finnick Odair on the day of the Reaping for the 65th Hunger Games.

The Reaping was the worst day of the year, in Annie’s opinion. Not because she was especially afraid of getting reaped, but more because she had to take care of her mother who became inconsolable on this day ever since her father died.

Annie spent the morning of the reaping trying to calm her mother and attempt to get her into her best clothes. She made her mother tea and tried to soothe her saying “I won’t be reaped mom! And then we’ll go to the party after. We’ll be fine!” but it was as if Annie’s mother didn’t even hear her. She just kept sniffling into her handkerchief. By the time Annie managed to calm her, Annie barely had time to rush back upstairs and don her best dress – a simple knee length dress made in a sea green colored material with a pearl button at the collar – before it was time to leave.

Just like every year, Annie stuck close to her mother all through the registering process and while everyone got settled. She mostly tuned out Muscida Selkirk’s, District 4’s escort, introduction – it hadn’t changed much over the years.

And then, it was time.

This was the second year Annie had been entered in the Reaping, and, just like last year, she couldn’t stop her heart from racing or her hands quivering with anxiety.

But a name was called – not hers! And immediately after the name was spoken, a high cry was let out: “I volunteer!”

A young girl, no more than sixteen, strutted on the stage of the Justice Building. She had a ferocious look on her face, and the crowd cheered for her. Annie stayed silent, squeezing her mother’s hand.

Annie began to relax; the worst was over. She hadn’t been reaped. She wouldn’t be leaving her mother alone. Her family was safe.

But then –

“Finnick Odair!”

Muscida Selkirk’s high, clear voice rang out over the silent crowd. There was no mistaking it. Annie heard the voice echo in her head over and over. _Finnick Odair Finnick Odair Finnick Odair Finnick Odair Finnick Odair no no no no no no no no no no no._

A hand slammed hard over Annie’s mouth, muffling the scream that burst through her lips. Annie hadn’t even realized that she had opened her mouth, but she couldn’t stop screaming screaming screaming into her mother’s hand, strugging against the arm that was holding her back from running onto that stage and telling Muscida that it was all a mistake, that she had to pick another name, that she couldn’t take him, that they couldn’t have him.

“Quiet! Quiet!” Annie heard her mother’s urgent voice in her ear, and her screams turned into muffled sobs, tears streaming down her face. She could feel Moira tugging on her arms, but Annie couldn’t take her eyes off the stage, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

The first time Annie saw her soulmate, he was being sentenced to die.

Finnick Odair walked up to the stage slowly. He was about Annie’s age, tall with gangly limbs and a youthful face. He was more beautiful than anyone in Annie’s grade, though. More beautiful than any boy Annie had ever seen – too beautiful for someone his age. His hair was a unique bronze color, his skin was tanned, and his eyes were green green green. If Annie weren’t already out of breath from screaming and sobbing, she would have been rendered breathless by the sight of him.

 _Why isn’t anyone volunteering?!_ Annie wanted to scream. She waited, but no one in the crowd said a word.

It was wrong, everything was wrong. _This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen_ , Annie thought desperately as Finnick gave the crowd a smile, evoking cheers and whistles. Annie wanted to shake them; every single person in the crowd to was smiling back at him filled her with disgust. _He’s not supposed to be up there! Can’t they see that?!_

But no one saw what Annie saw, because in the next moment, Finnick Odair and Coral Ryers were announced as District 4’s official tributes for the 65th Hunger Games. Annie’s knees gave out.

The minutes after were a daze. Somehow Annie found herself sitting down on the ground, a ways away from the Justice Building without any knowledge of how she got there. And, to be honest, she didn’t really care. All she cared about was the fact that Finnick, her soulmate, was going to die and she couldn’t stop it.

“Annie, Annie _breathe_.”

She heard voices breaking through the haze. There were hands touching her.

“Annie, snap out of it!”

That was her mother talking, Annie realized.

Slowly, the world around her came into focus again. Her mother was shaking her. “Annie!”

Annie heaved. Her chest was felt like someone was sitting on it. “Mom,” she wheezed out around her sobs.

Her mother’s brown eyes came into view. “Annie, you’re okay,” she soothed. But she didn’t get it – it didn’t matter that _Annie_ was okay because Finnick wasn’t okay Finnick was going to die he was going to die in the arena and Annie would be forced to watch and they would never get their house by the sea and –

Her mother slapped her hard in the face. Annie gasped, her lungs filling with air again. “Stop it, Annie!” her mother hissed, looking around them nervously.

“I have to see him, Mom. I have to go see him,” Annie whispered, no longer hyperventilating but tears were still running down her face steadily. Her mother hesitated. “Please!” Annie begged. She had to see him because what if this was the only time –

Her mother nodded and helped Annie to her feet. Annie all but ran back to the Justice Building. What if he was already gone what if she were too late what if they had already taken him –

But he was still there. And after her mother spoke with the guard, Annie was allowed to see him.

Annie held her breath as she walked into the room. _This is the closest I’ve ever been to him,_ Annie realized. Finnick was standing in the center of the small room, facing her. _He’s even more beautiful up close._

Finnick looked slightly confused; he had, of course, never seen Annie in his life before.

“Hi,” Annie managed to get out, her voice only a little louder than a whisper. Finnick stared. “I’m-I’m Annie.” She told him, a little louder this time. “Annie Cresta.”

Emotions flickered across Finnick’s face in flashes. Recognition. Joy. Understanding. Pain. Annie wiped a stray tear from under her eye.

Finnick moved closer to her. If Annie reached out now she could touch him.

“Annie.”

Finnick breathed her name like it was his last hope. It sounded so beautiful on his lips Annie almost started sobbing again. She couldn’t help it anymore; she moved to take his hands in hers without thinking about it. She was touching him – touching his actual skin! It was like nothing Annie had ever experienced before. Touching him, it was like touching a firework. All over her body, her skin tingled.

“Hi,” she said again, this time with a watery smile. Finnick let out a choked laugh.

“I’m –“ Finnick started, and Annie could tell before he finished that what he said next was either going to be an apology, something about him dying, or something else Annie didn’t want to hear.

“No, listen here Finnick Odair,” she cut him off firmly. “You’re not going to die in that area. So don’t even try to tell me that you are. You wanna know how I know? Cause we’re soulmates,” her voice broke on the work, and she gripped his hands even tighter, “And that doesn’t doesn’t happen everyday. _This_ ,” she twisted her wrist so they could both see his name written there, “Doesn’t happen everyday. You have to – you're going to come back. So we can live our lives together in a house by the sea. Alright?”

Finnick nodded solemnly. “Alright.”

“Good,” Annie choked out. Finnick let go of one of her hands and moved a piece of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Annie closed her eyes and subconsciously leaned into his touch.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he told her in a whisper, his green eyes meeting hers.

Annie squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to keep it together. “I think I love you already, Finnick Odair,” she whispered. “So you have to come back to me.”

“I’ll come back to you,” he promised.

\--

Annie didn’t leave the house for a week after the Reaping. She didn’t leave her bed all day after the Tribute Parade. Her mother had her excused from school for ‘medical reasons’ – which, in fact, was no lie. Annie could not make it through a day without being triggered into a panic attack that left her gasping and sobbing.

Annie spent most of her newfound free time thinking about Finnick. Where was he at this exact moment? Was he meeting the other tributes? Was he in training? Did he like his mentor? She also dwelled in daydreams. She fantasied about how things would have been if there were no Reaping, no Games, no Capitol. Maybe they would’ve met at the market, she mused. He would’ve come up to her jewelry stand for a gift for his mother. And after they met, they would have spent every minute together; taking long walks on the beach, collecting shells and sea glass for Annie’s jewelry, playing in the water.

But no matter how hard Annie wished and dreamed, Finnick was still training to become a killer thousands of miles away and Annie might never see him again in her life. The reality of it was almost too much to bear.

Her mother quickly became her only companion. When Annie’s friends from school visited the house, they just didn’t understand why Annie would suddenly get sad, or why she didn’t want to gossip or play anymore.

Soon – too soon, time was running out – it was time for the interviews. Annie sat extremely still in front of the TV, her body tense with anticipation. She was going to see him again – hear his voice.

Annie knew she should pay attention to the other tributes – they were Finnick’s competition after all – but she couldn’t remember a word of the interviews for Districts 1, 2, and 3.

And then, Finnick came on stage.

The reaction was instantaneous. The crowd went wild; there were more screams and applause for Finnick than any other tributes by far. Finnick looked confident in his tight, all white suit. The smile he gave the crowd was really more of a smirk, reminding Annie of the one he gave the crowd at the Reaping.

Caesar was beside himself, falling under the charm of Finnick Odair like the rest of them. He asked him the basic questions: What are your strengths? What are your weaknesses? etcetera. Finnick’s answers weren’t shocking or particularly interesting even, but there was something indescribable about the way he spoke. He had the audience hanging on to his every word. Annie was no exception.

“Unfortunately, we are almost out of time,” Caesar sad, and for once he actually sounded genuinely regretful about it. “We have time for one last question. Tell me, Finnick: Why do you think you should win?”

Finnick seemed the mull the question over for a moment before answering. “I’ll tell you why, Caesar,” he said with an easy smile. “I’m going to win because this isn’t the end for me. Fourteen years isn’t enough time for me. No, no. I’m going to win because this isn’t the end of Finnick Odair.”

The audience exploded.

Annie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

\--

The first time Annie left the house since the Reaping it was a Saturday afternoon. She walked through the streets of District 4 determinedly. Annie had a task to complete and was unwilling to let herself be distracted by anyone or anything she ran into along the way. She had to be back home before her mother returned from the docks. Her mother had forbade her from going to see her, but Annie didn’t really care that much about what her mother said she could and couldn’t do anymore.

A month ago, Annie wouldn’t dream of defying her mother so out rightly. What happened to Annie Cresta, the good little girl who did what she was told? _They took her_ , Annie thought. _They took her when they took Finnick._

Coming to a stop in front of a small cottage, Annie checked the address she had written on her hand to make sure she was in the right place. She took a deep breath, approached the front door, and knocked.

A frazzled looking middle-aged woman opened the door. Her faced was sallow and pinched, but her eyes were the same piercing green as her son’s. Upon seeing Annie, her face hardened. “Not again,” she grumbled. “You get out of here! Don’t you have better things to do than harass me! I’m not telling you anything about him so don’t even try!”

Annie gulped, but stood her ground. “Mrs. Odair, I’m so sorry to disturb you,” she started, just like she had rehearsed.

“Oh yeah?” Mrs. Odair cut her off. “Then why don’t you leave me alone, huh?” She attempted to slam the door shut.

“Wait!” Annie exclaimed. Desperately, she shoved her left wrist in front of her so that the older woman could see the words there.

Mrs. Odair froze, her eyes fixed on the lettering on Annie’s wrist. “Are you – are you her?”

“My name is Annie,” the young girl introduced herself. “Annie Cresta.”

Mrs. Odair’s expression morphed into one of sympathy and pain. “Oh, you poor girl. C’mon, get inside before someone sees you here.”

After that, Annie would go visit Mrs. Odair every afternoon, sneaking in the cottage’s back entrance “to avoid prying eyes,” as Mrs. Odair instructed. They drank tea together and talked about Finnick. Mrs. Odair showed Annie baby pictures and shared stories of him as a young boy that made Annie’s heart swell. They didn’t talk about the Games.

\--

Despite what Annie thought, time kept moving. Annie felt like she was stuck at a standstill – surely nothing could keep going, keep moving, when everything was so wrong? But the days kept changing and soon – too soon – it was time for the 65th Hunger Games to begin.

There was no more waiting. There was no more pretending. Twenty-four children, some of them trained killers, were about to put into the Arena and only one would come out.

Just as they did every year, the Crestas sat in front of the television to watch the Games. Except this year wasn’t like any other year because this year Finnick was in the Arena and this year Finnick could die he could die before Annie even knew him and he promised he would come back and he couldn’t break his promise or Annie didn’t know what she would do but she might just do something crazy because she didn’t know how she could go on living if she had to watch Finnick die and she was only thirteen years old and she didn’t know what to do and no one could tell her.

Annie toyed with the thought of not watching the Games at all. She could close her eyes and cover her ears and not watch, but the mere idea repulsed her and she rejected it immediately. She couldn't bear watching them but she knew she couldn't survive not watching them, not knowing.

So she sat on the couch. Her mother sat next to her, Annie’s hand clasped in between hers in an attempt to comfort her daughter.

The screen showed the Capitol seal and then – and then they could see it. The Arena.

This year, the Arena was a sea. A sea, with three islands placed in the center, equidistant from each other. As the camera panned over them, Annie could see that one of the islands was covered in a dense jungle, one with hills and mountains, and one a dry flatland.

The shot changed. The screen now showed the circle of tributes around the Cornucopia, which was placed on top of the highest mountain of the middle island. When the camera zoomed in on Finnick’s face, he looked determined, focused, ready.

And then the cannon went off.

\--

On the first day of the 65th Hunger Games, seven people died, including the female district from District 4. None of them were Finnick Odair, however, so Annie felt herself care less than she probably should. And she felt guilty about that. But stronger than the guilt was the relief because Finnick was still alive. He made it past the bloodbath. He found shelter. He found water. He was okay.

\--

On the second day of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick didn’t do much of anything at all. The commentators speculated – what was his strategy? What was he waiting for? After all, Finnick had received an eleven – the highest out of anyone – at his assessment. He was the most prepared to win. Why wasn’t he out there with the other careers, hunting people down?

Annie wanted to scream because not once did any of them think that maybe Finnick didn’t want to kill people, that he wasn’t a monster like the rest of them.

\--

On the fifth day of the 65th Hunger Games, the first tribute died of exposure. Annie tried to cry, hoping the form of release would make her feel a little better, but the tears wouldn’t come and she was left sobbing tearlessly into her hands.

\--

On the eighth day of the 65th Hunger Games, a girl from District 7 ran into Finnick as he made he way down to the bottom of the mountain. She didn’t hesitate – she went straight for the kill.

There wasn't even time for a scream of warning to leave Annie’s throat before the dagger was out of the girl's hands and flying towards Finnick. But – he dodged it with ease and, in one fluid motion, picked it up from where it landed on the ground and launched it back at her. It hit her on the left side of her chest, right where Annie knew her heart was.

This time Annie did scream, but it wasn’t a scream of warning. It was one of horror. The girl was dead. Finnick killed her.

Finnick went over to her and removed the dagger. He walked away from the body and didn’t look back.

\--

On the tenth day of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick made his second kill. And his third. And his fourth. The girl from District 12 had teamed up with the two tributes from District 10. A landslide had pushed the group into Finnick’s camp.

A sense of dread threatened to overwhelm Annie. Three tributes against one? And the only weapon Finnick had was a dagger. There was no way.

They fought. Finnick won.

The commentators were elated – if he could do that with a dagger think what he’ll do when he gets a real weapon, they said. Finnick was clearly the most popular tribute. He’d already received two parachutes containing food. All eyes seemed to be on him. What would he do next?

\--

On the eleventh day of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick got his trident.

The sight of such a large gift from a sponsor had the commentators in a tizzy. There had never been anything this valuable before, they said.

For the first time in eleven days, Annie allowed herself to hope. Just for a moment. Because when Finnick whirled the trident around him, elegantly piercing the air, it was clear that this was what Finnick’s talent was. This is what he was meant to do. And maybe, just maybe, this was the way he could come home.

\--

On the fifteenth day of the 65th Hunger Games, Annie couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t watch people die anymore, she couldn’t watch Finnick kill people anymore. She couldn’t take the blood, or the pain, or the hurt.

As she watched Finnick clean blood off the blades of his trident, Annie snapped. “Stop it!” she yelled at the television. Her mother stared at her silently.

“Stop it, stop it, just stop it!” She screamed at the Finnick onscreen. He couldn’t hear her.

Filled with uncontrollable rage, Annie picked up glass from the coffee table and launched it at the wall with a roar. Next came the dinner plate.

“Please,” she whimpered at the screen, sinking down to the ground. “Please just make it stop. He can’t do this anymore! They have to stop making him do this! He shouldn’t have to – no one should have to --”

Her mother’s arms wrapped around her and held her as she cried.

\--

On the nineteenth day of the 65th Hunger Games, Finnick and the girl from 1 were the only tributes left. Annie watched with dry, dead eyes as Finnick swam between two islands, pushed towards the girl from 1 by the Gamemakers.

An epic battle, orchestrated in every aspect by the Capitol and the Gamemakers, commenced between Finnick and the girl from 1. It was very obvious, however, that Finnick was the favorite to win. The commentators openly rooted for him, and Annie thought that maybe even the Gamemakers were shifting the odds in his favor. In the back of her mind, Annie knew that she should feel something – sorry, maybe, or even upset – for the girl from District 1, but she didn’t. There wasn’t room in Annie for anything other than the constant fear that was pressing down on her. The fear that kept her up night and day, constantly glancing down at Finnick’s name on her hand, paralyzed that if she went to sleep she would wake up and the name would be gone and Finnick would be dead – dead before she even got to know him, kiss him, love him.

And then, suddenly, it was over.

There was a spear imbedded in the chest of District 1’s tribute, and Finnick was standing over her body, one hand wrapped around his middle to try to stanch the blood from a wound there.

The cannon boomed. A hovercraft appeared.

And Finnick Odair was the victor of the 65th Hunger Games.

\--

The weeks after the Games, Annie existed in a state of limbo. Her entire world had been ripped apart the day of the Reaping, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do now that the Games were over. Things certainly couldn’t just go back to the way they were. Everything was different now – especially Annie herself.

The fear was still there, though it kept itself hidden in the daylight for the most part. However, when night fell, Annie couldn’t help herself from seeing the horrors of the Games again – except this time Finnick wasn’t the Victor. In her dreams, Annie saw Finnick killed in the arena in every sick, twisted way her mind could come up with.

 _He’s okay. He’s coming back. He’s coming home_ , she would tell herself over and over again as she lay shaking in her bed upon waking. According to the latest reports from Capitol TV, Finnick’s injuries were all but healed, and the replay and final interview will be soon. Then he’d come home to District 4 before the Victory Tour.

Annie let the thought of Finnick’s impending homecoming propel her into returning to some semblance of her previous every day life. She imagined everything they’d do together when he got back. Sure, he’d have some Victor’s duties now, but Annie was certain there would still be time for them to go to the beach together and find shells for her jewelry, or have him and his mother over for dinner.

These dreams were dashed by a phone call a week after the Games ended. It was Annie’s mother who answered the phone, her face paling considerably as the person on the other end spoke.

Annie looked up from the fish she was pan searing for dinner. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

Moira hung up the phone before turning around to face her daughter. “Annie.” Her voice was soft, hesitant.

Annie’s heart sped up. “What is it?” she asked again, a note of hysteria edging its way into her voice.

“It’s Mrs. Odair,” Moira breathed. “She’s… Well … She’s dead.”

Annie stared, uncomprehending.

“Dead,” she repeated blankly.

Moira nodded, looking shocked herself. “Yes, there was an accident. A house fire, apparently.”

“An accident,” Annie stated. Numb.

Moira moved to comfort her daughter, but it seemed that Annie was frozen and didn’t respond. “I don’t understand…” she mumbled.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Mrs. Cresta said, wrapping her arms around Annie. “I know you two really bonded.”

Annie didn’t seem to hear her mother. “I don’t understand,” she repeated, this time a little frantically. Moira held her daughter more tightly to her chest, stroking her hair.

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Annie cried before bursting into tears.

\--

Hours had passed before Annie was coherent enough to ask her mother a question.

“When is the funeral?” Her voice was scratchy from the crying.

Moira seemed to tense. “Annie,” she started. And just from that one word, Annie could tell she was not going to like what came out of her mother’s mouth next.

Annie stared her mother, waiting.

“It doesn’t matter when the funeral is, because we’re not going,” Mrs. Cresta said very quickly, as if she got out the words faster, Annie wouldn’t react to them as much.

“What?!” Annie exploded. “Why wouldn’t we go – we have to go!”

Moira stayed silent.

“We’re going!” Annie yelled emphatically.

Still, Moira said nothing.

Annie was close to tears again. “Fine!” she cried. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But I don’t care! I’m going!”

“No you’re not,” Annie’s mother said sharply.

“What is wrong with you?!” Annie howled, never having been met with so much resistance from her mother.

Moira shook her head. “It’s not safe,” she stated simply.

Annie threw her hands up in the air. “What is possibly unsafe about a funeral?”

Moira just shook her head again.

“Mom,” Annie pleaded, “Finnick’s not going to be there. She doesn’t have anyone else. We have to go.”

But her mother just repeated: “It’s not safe.”

Annie let out a string of cure words. None of the begging, crying or screaming Annie unleashed on her mother caused Moira to elaborate further than “it's not safe”. Furious and grieving, Annie stormed off to bed, fully intending to sneak out of the house and go to the funeral the next day.

The next morning, Moira ground up sleeping pills and put them into Annie’s oatmeal. She slept through the funeral. When she woke up, Annie locked herself in her room and didn’t speak to her mother for a week.

\--

By the time of Finnick’s final interview, all of Panem had heard about his mother’s untimely death.

At the end of the interview, after all the jokes and flirting, it was mentioned.

“Finally, my dear Finnick,” Caesar professed, “I want to over my condolences for the death of your mother. What a terrible time to lose a parent.”

A hush fell over the crowd, waiting for Finnick’s reply.

Finnick gave a perfectly executed sad smile. “Thank you Caesar,” he said with all the composure in the world. “It’s comforting to know my mother died after seeing me win, though. I know she died happy that her son brought pride to our district.”

This reply elicited tremendous applause and even some fake tears in the audience. Annie gaped at the screen. “He’s lying!” she yelled at the TV. “Why is he lying?”

Moira sighed. “That poor boy. He doesn’t have any family to come back to now.”

“Yes he does,” Annie said resolutely. Moira smiled.

\--

On the day of his homecoming, the Crestas went to the train station hours before Finnick’s train was set to arrive. Annie wanted to be at the very front of Finnick’s welcoming party to ensure that when he stepped off that train, he would immediately see a familiar face in the crowd and maybe the loss of his mother wouldn’t be so obvious.

Slowly, the station started to fill up with people. District 4 was in a state of prolonged celebration ever since the Games ended. It had been the District’s first win in decades, and Finnick’s arrival was to be the cause for a District-wide party. Annie couldn’t help but feel excited for the celebrations. Tonight would be the start of a change, she had decided. This was when they were going to put all of the horrors of the past behind them and start fresh.

The rush of wind was the fist sign that the train was close to arriving. All around her, people started to cheer and clap. Annie felt her heart pound in her chest. For some reason, she felt as if this moment – the moment she would see Finnick again – would define a great amount of importance. It were as if she were drowning every single second that she and Finnick had been apart, and when they were reunited, she would finally break the surface and her lungs would fill and she would finally be able to _breathe_ again.

It arrived in a flash; one moment the station was empty, and the next the train was there, slowing to a stop. The energy of the crowd increased as they cheered, ready to receive their Victor, to thank him for bringing pride to their district. The door of the train car slowly opened and…

There he was.

And Annie could breathe again.

 _He’s glowing_ , Annie thought in awe. In reality, it was the light from inside the train car illuminating the young Victor from behind that was giving him an almost god-like appearance. The crowd’s cries swelled to an unbearable volume; however, the noise seemed to fade away the longer Annie stared at Finnick.

It was different than seeing him on the television screen, Annie noted as Finnick boarded the station and moved closer to the crowd. The cameras couldn’t fully capture his piercing energy, that indescribable quality that was so very _Finnick_. He was here, he was home, and Annie’s eyes were touching his skin, and everything was going to be okay.

Finnick grinned at the crowd, waving. _He’s not going to see me_ , Annie thought with a pang of panic. There were too many people and each and every one of them was crying out for Finnick’s attention. Annie began to lose hope entirely as the peacekeepers began ushering Finnick away from the crowd and towards the exit.

But, just as he was turning away, his eyes sweeping the crowd one last time, Finnick’s green eyes found Annie’s and for a moment, everything was still. Annie beamed at Finnick, and tried to make her eyes convey everything that she couldn’t say to him in that moment. _It’s okay -- you’re home now. You’re not alone. I’m here and I’ll love you and I’ll be your family. I’m going to take care of you._ Annie prayed that Finnick understood, that he would hear her somehow.

But then something Annie didn’t expect happened. Finnick did not smile back at her, he did not wink. He didn’t make a motion for Annie to follow him, or that he would find her later. He didn’t smile – not even a secret smile with his eyes. Instead, his whole face shut down, his lips falling into a straight line. He almost looked, well, _displeased_ to see Annie in the crowd. But no – that couldn’t be right.

Except, the next thing Annie knew, Finnick was swiftly turning around and following the Peacekeepers away from the crowd and away from Annie without a hint of acknowledgement.

After Finnick’s departure, the crowd began to dissipate, eager to join the celebrations. Annie was left standing alone, wondering what the hell just happened.

\--

Annie replayed the moment their eyes met obsessively in her mind as she and her mother mulled around the festivities, searching for what could have possibly made Finnick react like that.

“Maybe he didn’t want to draw attention to you in the crowd,” Moira mused after Annie had relayed the event to her.

“Maybe,” Annie allowed. “But I just don’t understand – he almost looked angry?” She said the last bit as if it were a question. Annie felt like all of the excited energy she had contained earlier in the evening had escaped from her body like a balloon deflating. She no longer had any interest in the lavish party taking place, or anything else in that vein. She just wanted to talk to Finnick – away from everyone else.

Frustrated and emotionally exhausted, Annie felt herself start to cry. “I just wanted… for once … I thought,” she started to say around her tears. Annie didn’t know how many more bad things she could take.

“I know, baby. I know,” Moira murmured, pulling her daughter close.

Annie shrugged out of her mother’s embrace, wiping at her eyes angrily. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” she lied quickly and allowed Moira to lead her back towards the party.

For the rest of the evening, Annie searched for a way to be alone with Finnick. This proved to be impossible though, as Annie couldn’t even get close enough to Finnick to speak to him. The young Victor was constantly surrounded by people; adoring fans wanting to pay their respects, wealthy people from District 4 chortling with him over champagne, and a myriad of outrageously dressed people from the Capitol all vied for Finnick’s affection.

Annie hovered close by Finnick, although to an outsider it would seem as if Annie was as engrossed in the festivities as all of the other children. She danced with all of the boys in her class, skipping along with the music. She tasted all of the fancy Capitol cuisine with her mother, wrinkling her nose at some of the odd dishes. All the while, Annie made sure she knew where Finnick was, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Once or twice, she thought she saw his eyes flicker to her form, but she must have been mistaken because in the next moment he was always laughing at something someone had said, or shaking hands with someone new.

Finally, after the party had gone on for hours, Annie saw her opportunity. Finnick excused himself from the company of some District 4 officials and quietly slipped out of the party tent. Annie stood up, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed his departure. No one was looking. Annie left the tent after Finnick, following his tall form into the night.

Finnick hurried away from the party, and Annie had to jog to keep up with him. _He’s going to the sea_ , Annie realized. Finnick headed away from the town square, and towards the beach, taking off his shoes when he reached the sand.

The beach was empty, as everyone in the District was either in bed or at the party. Only able to make out his form in the light of the moon, Annie caught her breath as she saw Finnick sit down in the sand, staring out at the dark waves.

Annie took a deep breath. “Finnick,” she called into the night, walking towards him in the sand.

As if he had just been electrified, Finnick leaped up and lunged around, his hand groping the air for something that wasn’t there – his trident maybe?

“Whoa,” said Annie, holding her hands out in front of her in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just me.”

They were now close enough to each other that Annie could see Finnick’s face twist into the blank mask she saw at the station.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, but Annie didn’t care because he was _speaking to her again_. For the first time since the Reaping, they were together and they were alone. “Did anyone follow you?” He asked her urgently.

“What? No,” Annie said, baffled. Finnick seemed to relax at her words.

“Good. Now, leave me alone,” he said harshly, and he made to leave.

“Finnick!” Annie cried out, reaching out and grabbing his arm to force him to stay. It was then that Annie saw his left wrist clearly for the first time all night. It was blank.

Annie gasped. “What did you do?” She asked, horrified. Could he have --  was it even possible to -- removed it?

  
“It’s just covered up,” Finnick snapped, yanking his arm back.

“But why?” Annie stared at him with tears in her eyes. What was going on with Finnick? Why was he talking to her like this – like she was his enemy?

Finnick shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Listen, have you told anyone about this?” He motioned to their wrists.

“No, just my mom.”

Finnick looked at her intently, almost like he was scared of something. “Keep it that way, okay?” And then he began to walk away.

“No, Finnick! _Wait_!” Annie yelled, running to catch up with his longer legs. “Can you just _talk to me_ for one second! What is going on? Why are you being like this?”

“You need to stay away from me,” Finnick ground out, his pace not slowing a bit.

Annie barely contained a sob. “You said we would be together! You promised me!” She was near screaming at this point.

This seemed to affect Finnick. He stopped walking and spun around. “Yeah, well that was before I won the fucking Hunger Games, Annie.”

Annie flinched, both at his tone and at his use of profanity. Something changed, hardened, in Finnick’s eyes before he continued.

“What did you expect, Annie? That when I got back we could, what? Live together? Get married? I’m fourteen years old! And now I’m the most famous person in Panem! Just because your stupid name is on my stupid wrist doesn’t mean shit, okay? You don’t _own_ me. The whole world just opened up to me, and I’m not going to let you hold me back. If you think that I would still want you when every Capitol girl is throwing themselves at me, _begging_ for me to be with them, you’re about as dumb as you look.”

Annie recoiled like she had been slapped.

Finnick turned away and started to walk away again, back towards to the party. Annie was too frozen to do anything but let him go.

Suddenly, the world was moving too fast, and everything was spinning spinning spinning and Annie was stumbling through the sand, running, away from what she didn’t know. She ran until her legs gave out and she collapsed on the sand of a stretch of the beach she was unfamiliar with. Annie clutched at herself, trying to get rid of the feeling that she was being split in half. Her chest heaved and her face was wet with her tears.

 _This is heartbreak_ , Annie realized. Finnick had broken her heart – no he had crushed in the palm of his hand, smashed it into a million pieces. She could almost feel the hollow place in her chest where it used to beat.

_How could he say those things? How could be my soulmate and say those things to me?_

She wasn’t kissed by the sea, Annie thought bitterly. She was cursed. Cursed to always love a man that had only ever brought her death, pain, and suffering, a man who didn’t want her in the slightest.

With her wounded heart still stinging in her chest, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in her ears, Annie laid her head against the fine sand and allowed herself to fall asleep, thoroughly uninterested in any possibilities tomorrow had to offer.

 

END OF PART ONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave me feedback / let me know if u want me to continue to write parts 2 and 3 either here or at mermanfinnick.tumblr.com . the story is gonna develop pretty close to canon so that means that in part 2 u would see annies games and all of that (aka that means seeing more of actual finnick). let me know what u think !!!!!


	2. Part II

_“When two souls, which have sought each other for, however long in the throng, have finally found each other a union, fiery and pure as they themselves are begins on earth and continues forever.” – Victor Hugo_

 

 

Days without Finnick turned into weeks without Finnick and into months without Finnick until they were no longer days without Finnick, but rather just days.

 

“You’re young,” Moira told her daughter. “You’ll recover from this.”

 

And in a way, Annie’s mother was absolutely correct. In the five years that had passed since the 65th Hunger Games, Annie had all but forgotten those few, traumatic weeks. She grew and matured just as any teenage girl should. There was so more to the world than Annie had known at thirteen years old. There were friends and school and learning and helping and working and living. But it took her a while to realize that.

 

In the months after the Games, Annie fantasized that Finnick would come back to her and tell her that it was all a mistake, that they really were meant to be together. Or that maybe Annie would board a train that would take her to the Capitol, and she would find Finnick and force him to listen to her, to see her again, and he realize that they were soulmates. But time passed, and Finnick did not come to see her. And as even more time passed, Annie let go of these fantasies because she had realized something: she could not force Finnick to love her.

 

The truth of the matter was that Annie hadn’t even really _known_ Finnick Odair. Annie had spoken to him all of two times in her entire life, and the last time he had basically informed her that he never wanted to see her again. That hardly constituted a broken heart. She couldn’t miss him – she didn’t know him enough to miss him. And as the years went on, Annie found herself forgetting the details of her first encounter with Finnick in the Justice Building. Did he really caress her face or had she imagined that? She could not remember the feeling of his skin touching hers anymore. It was all fuzzy and unclear now, like a half-remembered dream.

 

Perhaps Annie would have forgotten Finnick altogether if it had not been for two things: The first of which she saw every time she bathed. Annie had taken to covering her tattoo with a large seashell bracelet, which she wore always. Whenever she bathed, however, the bracelet came off and Finnick’s name was exposed. His name was on her always; he could not be erased from her life that easily.

 

And there was nothing Annie could do to stop the dreams. That was the second thing. Most nights, Finnick was present in her dreams. Sometimes he would simply be there, his face swimming in her subconscious. Other nights she would dream of the way things could have been. Finnick, his arms all around her and the smell of salt water sharp in her nose. A glimpse of him laughing in the morning light of a living room she instinctively recognized as their house. Finnick, kissing her. She would wake from these visions gasping, heart pounding. Once, she wondered if Finnick had similar dreams in his fancy Capitol bed. _Don’t be an idiot, Annie_ , she scolded herself. Because of course he doesn’t.

 

Finnick Odair was probably the most famous person in all of Panem. As he got older, he only got more handsome, more muscular, and more popular. He was a feature in most Capitol television programs, and his exploits were always photographed, videoed, and discussed in depth by everyone and anyone. This was how Annie knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Finnick did not think of her at all; every time Finnick was seen in public, there was a beautiful man or women hugged to his side. In some cases, there were even pictures of the couple kissing or embracing. So Annie doubted that Finnick even remembered who she was.

 

And despite how often Annie repeated to herself that it didn’t matter, that she controlled her own fate, that the tattoo really meant nothing, that _Finnick_ meant nothing, something primal in her gut twisted whenever she saw these photos. It wasn’t jealously or bitterness -- it was something deep within her, screaming at her that that was not the way things were supposed to be.

 

Still, after five years, one could adjust to anything. And Annie adjusted to the churning in her stomach, the dreams, and the words on her wrist until they were just a part of her life that she couldn’t change. There was more to life than Finnick Odair. And Annie chased that life.

 

Once she reached sixteen, Annie started working with her mother down at the docks. There she met a group of girls with whom she became close, and they spent many a night laughing on the beach after work. The girls, Asteria and Calliope, were friends when Annie needed them, but also respected that sometimes she preferred to be alone. Often, Annie would go on long walks by herself on the cliffs overlooking the sea. The quiet solitude offered her a chance to reflect on the day and to be alone with her own thoughts. These walks quickly became a staple in Annie’s life.

 

The truth was, Annie had a calm, happy life in District 4. She loved her mother, she loved her friends, she liked her job, and her and her mother made enough money for them to live comfortably. And sometimes, on her walks, Annie would look out at the ocean and into the setting sun and think that she could see herself living the rest of her life here. That she wanted to die when she’s old and grey right here, by her sea. And she’d smile out at the water.

 

\--

 

 

Every year, she woke up with the same feeling. The fear was there, but a strange excitement overpowered it. Today was the Reaping. Annie Cresta was eighteen years old. It was the last year her name would be entered.

 

But the idea of her impending freedom from the threat of the Games was not the reason Annie was excited. On this day every year, Annie would see Finnick. And not in a picture or on a screen – with her own eyes. The combination of seeing him in person and being in the place where everything first happened was too much for her usually strong mental block on all things Finnick. So, just for the day, Annie allowed herself to really think about what happened, to stare at Finnick, and to go home once the Reaping was over and cry herself to sleep. Every other day of the year, Annie Cresta barely thought about Finnick Odair. But not today. Today she would curse fate and curse Finnick and curse the Games and curse the sea for putting his name on her wrist.

 

The morning was the same as it had been for the past five years. Annie’s mother no longer cried in fear, but instead sat in silence. The Crestas ate, dressed, and walked to the Justice Building quietly, both mother and daughter distracted by her thoughts.

 

The spring air was cool and fresh in front of the Justice Building. The Victors were already up on the stage once Annie had registered and joined the crowd. There was Mags, and Finnick. He looked as beautiful as ever; and yet – there was something off about him, Annie mused. She looked more closely at his face as the people of District 4 settled down. He looked… Tired? Something like that. A makeup artist had gone to great lengths to hide whatever emotion was showing on Finnick’s face, Annie realized. Was he not getting enough sleep on his luxurious Capitol bed? Perhaps too many nights staying up doing things that weren’t sleeping.

 

Annie shook her head at the direction her thoughts had turned. Now was not the time to be bitter. Now was a time just to look at him. Everyone spoke at length about Finnick’s beauty, and yet every time she saw him Annie could not help but remarking on it herself. She felt as if her eyes would never get tired of looking at him. She could drink him in forever.

 

Muscida Selkirk started speaking up on the stage. Annie had long ago stopped listening to the actual reaping, instead allowed herself to lose herself in her own thoughts.

 

“Annie Cresta!”

 

The sound of her own name broke through Annie’s thoughts. Her head snapped up to the stage.

 

Finnick was looking at her.

 

Staring at her, more like. His green eyes were fixed on her and they weren’t glancing away. Her eyes met his for the first time in five years, and it felt like someone had sent a shock directly to her heart. And that’s how she knew what had happened. Because there was no other reason for Finnick to be looking at her like that, for everyone to be looking at her like that unless…

 

Unless the worst had happened.

 

Annie felt her legs move almost involuntarily, walking through the mass of bodies that parted for her towards the center aisle that would lead her to the stage. It was as if she were in a trance, a daze. She did not break her eye contact with Finnick as she walked. It was as if they could not physically look away from one another, as if their eyes were locked together. Looking into his eyes, Annie felt like they were having their own private conversation. It did not matter that it had been five years since their last interaction; they still understood each other on a level like no other.

 

This was not a coincidence. Annie knew it, deep down, the moment she heard her name called. There was no way that her name was chosen randomly – there was just no way. She didn’t know how or why, but she could just tell from looking at Finnick that _he_ was the reason she was climbing the stairs onto the stage at that second.

 

She now had to crane her neck to the side to keep her eye contact with Finnick. A tap on the shoulder from Muscida Selkirk broke whatever was between them as Annie’s head snapped forward towards the audience. It seemed that Muscida was speaking to her. Annie didn’t listen. Her eyes raked the crowd for her mother, but she couldn’t find her amongst the massive throngs of people.

 

She could feel Finnick’s eyes on her all throughout the boy’s portion of the Reaping. A boy who looked only about thirteen years old was chosen, and he walked up on the stage with shaky legs. It was obvious that he was trying not to cry. Annie stared at him tearlessly. In the back of her mind, she wondered why she was not crying, not reacting at all. Maybe she was in shock, she reasoned. This didn’t feel like shock, though. She felt… calm. Like she was expecting this. It was an odd feeling. The tears would come later, as would the panic, she knew.

 

Suddenly, a strong hand was leading her away. With a jolt, she realized that the Reaping was over and they were taking her into the Justice Building.

 

“Wait!” Annie cried out, twisting away to look around for Finnick. He was leaving the stage in a different direction. His head snapped up to hers as if he heard her voice.

 

“A Finnick Odair fan, eh?” The voice next her head chuckled. It was Muscida Selkirk leading her into the building, she realized. “Don’t worry we’ll meet him on the train shortly.”

 

Reluctantly, Annie turned away and followed the Peacekeepers into the building.

 

\--

 

Annie stood in the center room. It was the exact same spot she stood in five years ago. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. It was right here that she spoke to him for the first time. Touched him for the first time.

 

_“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”_

Annie’s eyes flew open. The words came back to her suddenly, brought on by the familiarity of the room. Finnick had said that to her right here on the day of his Reaping. She’d forgotten; in all the panic and anger and pain she’d forgotten that he said that.

 

The door opened with a bang and Annie turned with a start. Her mother was being ushered into the room by a Peacekeeper. With one look at her mother, Annie felt her heart drop. Moira Cresta was sobbing violently, her whole body shaking.

 

Annie quickly gathered her mother into her arms. Moira felt small and fragile, and Annie was suddenly aware of how old her mother was.

 

“I’m sorry – so sorry,” Annie heard her mother say between gasping sobs. “Tired – to keep – you safe.”

 

Annie stroked her mother’s hair. “Shh, mom. It’s not your fault. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

 

Her voice was flat and probably not very comforting. She knew that her mother was not stable enough to handle the reality of the situation. Annie hated lying, but her mother was about to be left all alone. Annie wouldn’t be there to take care of her mother if she had a fit. She had no choice but to keep her calm. She cleared her throat and tried again.

 

“Mom, mom, listen to me.” Annie’s voice was stronger, more soothing. She took her mother’s face in her hands and forced her to look into her eyes.

 

“I’m gonna be okay.” Lie.

 

“Finnick made it out, and so will I.” Lie.

 

“Finnick will take care of me, mom. Everything will be fine.” Lie lie lie.

 

Her words calmed her mother down some, and she repeated them over and over again. Annie focused on her mother’s face, her hair, her form, committing every detail to her memory as she held her in her arms. Annie knew this would be the last time she saw her mother.

 

Soon – too soon – the peacekeepers were there, ushering her out.

 

“I love you always,” Annie managed to get out before letting them take her away. The door shut.

 

Before Annie could even take a breath, the door was opening again and two people were shoved through. Calliope. Asteria.

 

Asteria took one look at her friend and burst into tears. Annie ran forward and enveloped the crying girl in her arms.

 

“I’m sorry,” Asteria stuttered. “I told myself I w-w-wouldn’t cry, but seeing you here…” She trailed off and took a deep breath, collecting herself. Annie smoothed the tears hair away from her friend’s face.

 

“It’s okay,” she said woodenly. The words felt like a lie on her tongue. Calliope embraced her next. “Will you,” Annie started, but then broke off. “Will you look after my mother? She won’t do well, alone.”

 

The girls nodded.

 

“Make sure she doesn’t see when – you know,” Annie added _when I die_ , in her head. The words got caught in her throat, but there was no need to elaborate. Calliope and Asteria understood what she meant.

 

Asteria pressed her hand over her mouth, but nodded solemnly.

 

Calliope, who had been quiet this whole time, spoke up suddenly. “Annie, listen to me,” she said, looking directly into the young girl’s eyes. “There’s no way to get out of this, I know that. But, they can never really control you, okay? They’re gonna force you into that arena but they can’t make you anything you’re not.”

 

“What are you saying?” Annie whispered.

 

“I’m saying that they can’t take _this_ ,” Calliope said forcefully, placing her hand on Annie’s chest, right above her beating heart. “They can’t take _you,_ you understand? You’ll always be Annie, right until the end.”

 

Suddenly Annie understood what Calliope was trying to say. She took her friend’s hand from her chest and brought it up to her cheek, holding it there for a moment as a sign of her thanks.

 

“You are a beautiful person, Annie Cresta.” Asteria spoke clearly despite her tears. “Try to be strong like the sea.”

 

The door slammed open, the Peacekeeper had returned to tell them that their time was up.

 

“We love you!” Asteria cried out as she was led out of the door.

 

“I love you too!” Annie called back, but the door shutting behind them cut off her reply. Annie hoped they had heard her.

 

She barely had a moment to take a breath before the door was opening again. Two Peacekeepers stood in the doorway.

 

“Time to go,” one of them said shortly, reaching forward to grab one of her arms and push her through the door.

 

The Peacekeepers marched her out of the building and into a car with Muscida Selkirk and the tribute boy already there, waiting. The car began to move, and as Annie watched her district pass through the window, her thoughts seemed to speed up. _This is probably the last time I’ll be here, in District 4._ The thought broke through the daze that lingered over her ever since her name had been called. She pressed her face against the windowpane, forcing herself to take in the familiar sights so they would be locked in her mind forever. A glimpse of the sea that peaked out between two houses close to the shore caused Annie’s heart to race, and tears to fill her eyes for the first time all day.

 

 _I never wanted to die so far from the sea_ , she thought with a touch of panic. They allowed her to say goodbye to her family and friends, but what about her closest companion? She didn’t get to say goodbye to the one entity that knew all of her secrets, that understood her better than anyone, and that she loved above all else. Annie wanted to run her hands through the sand, wanted the curling waves to lick her feet, wanted to hear the music of the swells crashing against the sand one last time. She’d whisper her goodbyes into the salt-spray, and the water would whisper back in its own way. The waves would tell her: _Annie, you were born of the salt and of the sea, and what belongs to the sea always returns, eventually._

A sharp tug on her elbow jolted her out of her thoughts. Muscida Selkirk and the other tribute were getting out of the car and led onto the platform where the sleek, silver train waited for them. Annie hurried after them, hearing the young boy gasp as he entered the train.

 

Annie stepped inside the train car and took in the decadent, furnished interior only momentarily before her eyes were drawn to the glass-paneled windows that made up the entire East wall of the train car. With an intake of breath, Annie pushed past Muscida and the other tribute and walked, dreamlike, to the end of the train car where the shimmering, blue water was visible through the wall of windows.

 

Annie placed a hand on the clear glass and hungrily took in the sight before her. It was a beautiful, clear day – the kind of day that made you wish you were a child once more, so you could play all day on the shore. The sea was the brightest blue imaginable, swirled with greens and purples and crested with white where the waves broke against the land.

 

It was the same sight that she had seen countless times in her life, but Annie forced herself to commit every detail of the scene to her memory, hardly allowing herself to blink as to not miss a second of it. Her eyes traced all of the familiar crevices of the beach, silently saying goodbye to every place that had brought her peace. As the train started the pull smoothly away from the station and the shore started to move further and further away, Annie felt a piece of herself that lived inside her simply cease to exist. All of the hopes and dreams and plans for her future were left behind as the train took her further away from her home by the sea. She knew that, no matter what happened now, there would be a part of her that she could never get back. She was already a different Annie than the one that had eaten breakfast with her mother this morning. It was the first thing the Games had taken from her, Annie realized as the last glimpse of the sea disappeared from view. She knew it wouldn’t be the last.

 

A murmur from behind her caused her to break her gaze from the windows. She twisted around to see Finnick (her eyes always found him first, always, always, always), and standing next to him was Mags, Muscida Selkirk, and the young tribute boy. All of them were staring at her.

 

Annie realized with a flush of embarrassment how bizarre her actions must have looked. She forced herself to not look at Finnick, instead addressing Muscida when she spoke.

 

“Sorry. I just wanted to see the ocean one last time.” She could feel Finnick’s eyes on her, but she did not look in his direction.

 

Muscida smiled at her, perhaps a bit too joyously for the present situation, Annie thought.

 

“Who says you won’t see it again, hmm? If all goes well, you’ll be back here in a few weeks!”

 

Annie frowned, for a minute not understand what she could be talking about. Then she realized Muscida was implying that she would return to District 4 as a Victor. The thought was absurd; Annie hadn’t even considered winning for a moment since she’d heard her name called. She wondered at what point Muscida and the others would realize she was a lost cause. Annie’s eyes were drawn to her tribute partner. He was scowling at the floor and shifting uncomfortably.

 

“Well,” continued Muscida loudly, evidentially not realizing the awkward silence that had gripped the train car, “I think it’s time for lunch. All of the excitement of Reaping Day always leaves me famished.” And she walked confidently over to a large, opulent, wooden table at the other end of the car Annie hadn’t even noticed, taking at seat at the head of table where a place was already set.

 

The other tribute hurried after her, sinking into one of the carved wooden chairs that matched the table. Annie almost tripped in her haste to follow him, realizing with a start that she must claim the seat next to his if she wanted avoid being seated next to Finnick or Mags. She still hadn’t looked over at the younger Victor, though she could still sense his green eyes following her form around the train.

 

Finnick helped Mags into her own chair before taking the seat directly across from Annie’s place. Annie had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. She had made a terrible mistake. By sitting straight in front of her, Annie couldn’t lift her eyes from the table without chancing eye contact with Finnick. Sitting beside him would’ve been so much better, as she would’ve just had to keep her eyes focused on the company across the table and not look to her side. But it was too late to move, so she stared intently at the patterns carved in the wood tabletop, pretending to find them extremely interesting.

 

Muscida waved her hand at someone standing as still as a statue in the corner of the train car. _An avox_. Annie couldn’t help but stare; she’d never seen one in person before. The avox turned and exited the room, but returned only seconds later carrying a crystal pitcher full of a lavender-colored liquid. The avox silently came around to each place and poured a small amount of the liquid in each of their glasses. Annie wanted to ask what the drink was, but thought it might be impolite.

 

After the avox had returned to the corner, Muscida grasped her glass in her hand and raised it in the air.

 

“To Calder and Annie!” she cried dramatically. “May I be the first of many to say: Congratulations on representing District 4 in the 70th Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!”

 

 _Calder. That’s his name_ , Annie thought, eyeing the boy to her right. Everyone raised took hold of their glass and raised it to their lips. The sweet liquid – sweeter than anything she’d ever tasted in her life – fizzled on Annie’s tongue. She saw out of the corner of her eye Calder staring down into his glass with a look of amazement.

 

Muscida, oblivious to Annie and Calder’s astonishment, drank all of the liquid in one and slammed her glass back down on the table forcefully. She waved again at the avox in the corner, who, this time, re-entered the room with a large platter of food. Three more avoxes followed, each carrying a different dish, which they set neatly on the table. Muscida immediately started piling food from each dish on her plate, and dug in. The clinking of silverware against china in front of her told Annie that Finnick and Mags were doing the same.

 

Looking at the food made Annie’s stomach churn dangerously. There was no way she would be able to eat anything, but she grabbed what she thought could be a bread roll from the closest platter and put it on her plate to avoid any questions.

 

Unfortunately, questions seemed to be Muscida Selkirk’s favorite topic of conversation for new tributes.

 

“Tell me about yourselves. I want to know absolutely everything!” She said eagerly, between forkfuls of food.

 

Annie stared forcefully at her plate, moving her bread roll around her plate with her fork, praying that Calder would speak up and save her from the obligation.

 

There was silence, and then – “’M Calder. I’m 13, but I’ll be 14 in three months. I live in the North Side – inland from the shore – with my family. We work at a plant that manufactures parts for fishing boats.”

 

The sound of his voice made Annie break the staring contest she was having with her plate. It was the first time she had heard him speak, really, and it was suddenly very apparent how young he was. Annie turned her gaze to him. He was only a boy… not even fourteen years old. He was too young. She felt as though there was a hand gripping her windpipe, and it had tightened its hold, making it difficult to breathe.

 

But Muscida was smiling. “Almost 14! That’s not so young! That’s almost the age that Finnick was when he won!” And she tipped her head at Finnick. Annie returned her gaze to her plate abruptly, Muscida’s words feeling like a slap to the face.

 

Yes, she knew very intimately how young Finnick Odair had been when he won his Games. She felt her neck flush with color. Was she supposed to act like she and Finnick had never met before? That's what Finnick seemed to be doing. But why? They had barely known each other anyway -- what was the harm in admitting that they had interacted before Finnick's Games? It wasn't so unlikely, both of them growing up in the same District and all. Should she mention it? Finnick hadn't, so maybe she should just follow his lead. There must be some reason he wasn't acknowledging her, some reason that --

 

"Annie? Miss Annie Cresta? Are you hearing me?"

 

Annie's inner monologue was cut off by Muscida's loud voice. The occupants of the train car were all staring at her again.

 

"Sorry, were you speaking to me?" Annie responded quickly, her voice small. The flush on her neck spread up to her cheeks.

 

Muscida's eyes were critical. "It's your turn to tell us about yourself, dear."

 

"Oh." Annie paused. Her mind was elsewhere. She could not think of a single thing to tell the table about herself. "Well. My name is Annie Cresta."

 

 _They already knew that,_ a voice in her head hissed at her. What had Calder said again?

 

"I'm eighteen years old..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly. She silently begged someone, anyone, to say something to take the attention away from her.

 

Muscida spoke, and Annie felt a rush of relief. "Eighteen! You'll be one of the oldest of all the tributes!" It sounded as if this prospect pleased her greatly. "Tell me, Annie: What skills do you have?"

 

Annie stared at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

 

"Skills!" Muscida waved her hand impatiently. "You know, things you're good at, things you've trained at! To use in the Arena!"

 

Annie couldn't restrain the laugh that fluttered through her lips. Muscida's eyes narrowed dangerously at her. She could feel the eyes of Finnick and Mags on her, and she saw Calder actually put down his fork in order to stare at her.

 

"Sorry," Annie apologized, covering her mouth with her hand. "It's just that I don't think I have any of the skills you're talking about."

 

Muscida's mouth twisted. "Well, I don't see how that's a laughing matter," she said primly.

 

For the first time, Mags spoke. Her speech was halting and guttural, making sounds that were almost words, but not quite. Annie listened intently, trying to piece together what she said.

 

"She said 'Maybe you have some, but you don't realize it.'"

 

It was not Muscida or Mags who spoke that time, but Finnick. And he spoke directly to Annie. She turned her head to him automatically, and once again their eyes connected. It was the first time she had looked at him properly since they’d left the stage. His face was tight, guarded, and drawn. His eyes bored into hers intently, searching for something.

 

Annie forced herself to look away and answer Mags. "Maybe, but I don't think so," she told her, smiling as genuinely as she could at the white-haired lady.

 

Mags spoke again. This time, Annie was able to distinguish the words she was saying.

 

"I should tell you more about myself?" Annie confirmed she understood correctly. Mags nodded.

 

"Great idea!" Interjected Muscida. "What do you like to do, Annie? Where do you work?"

 

Annie felt that if Muscida were asking her these questions in hope that Annie would revel something that would make her a more lethal tribute, she was going to be disappointed.

 

"I work with my mother down at the docks. We mend fishing nets." Annie explained.

 

Muscida's smile fell slightly. "And do you have any hobbies?" she asked, her voice almost forced.

 

"I like to make jewelry from shells I find on the beach." Annie fiddled with the seashell bracelet on her wrist. "I sell the things I make in town sometimes. I, uh, like to read. And I can cook pretty well, I guess. And I like the water. I'm a good swimmer."

 

This speech was met with silence at the table. Annie's thoughts were confirmed; they had been trying to size her up, to see if she was a potential Victor. Annie felt no shame at her apparent lack of "skills," or her companions' reactions to them. It was probably better for them to write her off now than when she got her tribute scores.

 

"Hmmm," said a displeased Muscida, and then shifted her attention to Calder, subjecting him to the same interrogation she had Annie.

 

Finnick, however, kept his attention on Annie.

 

"You shouldn't give up so quickly," he said in a low tone. "Just because you've never done something before doesn't mean you won't be able to do it."

 

His voice was even more heart stopping than it sounded on Capitol TV programs. Annie felt herself responding before she had even thought of what to say, as if they had conversed many times before.

 

"I can't imagine myself excelling in combat or survival skills," she replied truthfully.

 

Finnick's eyes darkened, and the smirk that always seemed to grace his lips slipped. "You shouldn't say things like that."

 

"Even if they're true?" Annie asked curiously.

 

"Especially if they're true." Then, his voice changed, returning to a normal volume and playful cadence. "Plus, you happen to have the best mentor in all of Panem: Me."

 

"I do?" Annie got out, stunned. What was he doing?

 

"She does?" Calder's angry voice came from her right.

 

"Yup!" said Finnick, his lips popping over the 'p' sound.

 

Muscida looked as though she had just tasted something extremely sour. Annie could understand all of their confusion. Why would Finnick Odair choose to mentor the hopeless, pathetic girl? Calder was the same age as Finnick when he won his games, and showed a lot of promise too. Why didn't he take him under his wing, show him how to win like he did?

 

Annie couldn't bear to look at any of them, least of all Finnick. She felt tears burn in her eyes, frustration welling up inside of her. She didn't understand any of this. Why would Finnick reject her, ignore her for years, and then act so strangely around her when she had been Reaped? What game was he playing?

 

Mercifully, the conversation was steered somewhere else, and no one objected to Annie's silence for the rest of the meal, or when she asked to be shown to her compartment after the meal had finished.

 

"Of course, dear! You must be exhausted! What a day it must have been for you..." the older woman trilled, false sympathy coloring her every word. She stood up from the stately table and Annie did the same.

 

Before Annie could take more than two steps in Muscida's direction, Finnick stood up from his seat across hers, his tall form drawing the attention of everyone in the space. He looked directly into Annie's surprised eyes before speaking.

 

"I am looking forward to mentoring you, Annie Cresta," he said in an appropriately formal voice.

 

But that wasn't what he meant, Annie knew. When their eyes connected, she recognized the message he was trying to convey, the one he could not say aloud in front of these people.

 

_I'll talk to you later. I'll explain everything later. When we're alone._

 

Her heart skipping a beat, Annie managed a quick nod that she hoped conveyed that she understood him, and then hurried after Muscida who was waiting at the sliding panel in the wall that allowed them entry to other parts of the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im very sorry for the ages between chapters. theres no excuse really but i did set out too much for myself to get thru plot wise w this chapter. ive decided to post what ive got! comments are much appreciated, or hmu at lizziebennet.tumblr.com


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